


Sealed With a Kiss

by PhoenixDragon



Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Angst, Gen, Spoilers for 'Let's Kill Hitler', dark!fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-09-09
Updated: 2011-09-09
Packaged: 2017-10-23 16:02:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,360
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/252214
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PhoenixDragon/pseuds/PhoenixDragon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>Just 31 minutes in which to clean up whatever mess he could - as he would be dead one minute after.</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	Sealed With a Kiss

He thought he was done.

32 minutes.

Just 31 minutes in which to clean up whatever mess he could - as he would be dead one minute after.

And here he had just gotten used to living again.

He hadn't been sure about much when he had gotten this face, this regeneration, this new life to start over and try again. Maybe he could do it right this time.

Certainly couldn't screw it up more.

The Master was gone, Donna - Donna (a sister spirit if there ever was one) was ruined. His time was over. But as the radiation had burned away inside, so did his anger, so did his hate, his rage, his despair -

He was going to start fresh - even as he went 'old school' as Martha would have said.

 _Oh, Martha - I never did do right by you..._

His bridges were burned, his hope lost, found and renewed - he sought a small modicum of what he used to be and found it; only for it all to go rotten around him again. New life, new adventures, new friends - but as it turned out, the enemies that dogged his every step through the last ten regenerations had not forgotten him. Nothing had - no grudges, hates, ills or timey-wimey stumbles. No, they were back and bigger and badder than ever.

And everyone, _everyone_ (the exceptions being Amy and Rory) knew something he did not.

And then (suddenly) even Amy and Rory were no longer exceptions.

Everyone was keeping secrets, even (especially) him.

Somehow, he had fallen backwards even as he had gone forwards -

There was irony in there somewhere.

With how easy this regeneration had gone (very little memory loss, very little sickness at all actually) he should have known there was a catch. That's what his last two selves would have thought; they would have stopped this train before it started. Or at least derailed it.

 _Enough with the_ train references _, please..._

And now -

Now he had 31 minutes to live and he would be dead in 32.

He seemed to be burning through his lives rather quickly here of late.

He would meet his end all too soon if he didn't watch himself.

Maybe, though...maybe that was best.

It would have to be, as the interface made it clear (indubitably so) that the poison was stopping his regenerative process. Now...now he just needed a reason. He needed to make time, he needed to do it quickly - but his body ached, his vision swam and pain pulsed with every breath he took.

He just needed a _reason_.

He had made mistakes with this life and he had discovered (the hard way) he rather disliked being in the dark. But this time...this time he had also found forgiveness, he had found new friends that knew of him and his past faults - and they loved him anyway. And he loved them. He could admit that. He hoped it made him a better being, a more honest one by allowing that truth to sit so well in his hearts; even if it made them break just that little bit more.

That was one lie he couldn't tell to himself - that he didn't care. Rose showed him he was wrong. Then Martha, then Donna - they showed him that he could be human and still be Time-Lord. They had showed him compassion and loss and wonder and joy and life brand new - and how did he repay them?

 _Don't think on it..._

Was there anyone left he hadn’t completely failed? Was there _any_ reason to be found to keep pulling breath into heavy, tired lungs?

 _Save them._

Okay...Amy and Rory then - and...and their daughter, River Song.

 _'Don't you change a thing - don't you_ dare _-'_

Nevermind.

They loved him - he loved them, but it didn’t mean he hadn’t failed them.

Little Amelia, though...he hadn't failed her yet, he could be strong for her. She was the first being he met when this life was new -

 _It's still new, I'm not ready!_

\- and she was the one creature left that he hadn't yet damaged with his clumsy hearts, his reckless wanderings and skewed intentions. Amy...Amy was different - she was and always would be Amelia (somewhere inside); but his Amelia Pond of the fish fingers and custard, she would always be alive (forever young) in his hearts and mind.

A long as that was.

Which wasn't very long, unfortunately.

Time - never enough of it. And that's saying something for a man with a Time Machine. Too bad the Old Girl couldn't save him this time; but she could help him save _**them**_.

And that would (have to) be enough.

  
 ****

O-o-O

  
He tried to be flippant, but couldn't muster the strength.

 _'Amy Pond, crying over me, eh?_ GOTCHA. _'_

He had rallied for his thirty one minutes and now, thirty two was fast approaching. He had one last card to play (and ohh, how he _hated_ himself for even thinking it) and if it didn't work? Well...he wouldn't know about it, would he? He could just rest. Right here. No one would mind.

River would take them home and history would change (not by much though, he had a suspicion) to accommodate his new 'death-date' and maybe, _maybe_ it would be set right again. He could die for that. Tired old man, anyway - silly old man who had lived long past his own faults and ideals.

But, if it worked...well, like mother like daughter, eh? Both of them clever and mad and impossible and wonderful and too stubborn to let go. Amy certainly didn't - not then and not now it seems.

"Oh, Pond - you have a schedule for everything."

He is tired now. The pain is gone and he is so tired and (in a completely daft way) he is half hoping that it _won't_ work. That River would run away and make _herself_ into the woman he knows and adores. It could be possible. It could be -

He just needs to tell her...River - _Melody_ \- River; then he can rest. He can rest and it will be out of his hands and for once, that is a wonderful thought. He is not responsible -

 _Liar._

\- for what happens next. He can't control the outcome this time. Just hope that somewhere in there (even if she doesn't save him, _especially_ if she doesn't save him) that she can use those words to heal herself, to patch her wounds; to become the brilliant, crazy, unstoppable River Song that he has come to love.

This new life hadn't turned out so bad after all then. He may have hurt them, ruined them in so many, many ways; he may have destroyed their light in his clumsy efforts to love them, to share with them - but he had friends. Beautiful, steady, fierce and warm friends that loved him back (in spite of it all) and well...that made this new, this final life worth it.

So he spoke to her, he saved up enough breath to do that. And as those words left him, he hoped (selfishly) that she wouldn't do it, that she would see this as the trick, the ruse it ultimately was and walk away.

That she wouldn't have to learn the Doctor lies.

  
 ****

O-o-O

  
He came to discover, though, there is no escaping the Pond women. That even when they have it figured out (and they always do, _always_ ) they will do as they are wont to do and there is no stopping them. His body responds weakly to the energy that wafts around it and he finds enough strength to try to talk her out of it. His hope flounders even as he tries to plead - but she knows his game already. She hears him, but she won't _hear_ him - and it is in her eyes -

She will gladly do it a thousand times.

Ohh, how he wishes he could have done the same for her.

"Hello, Sweetie"

She smiles - River, _his River_ -

And then she kisses him - and within that kiss, lies a new life.

He can only hope that (this time) he can live it well.

 ****

END

  


**Author's Note:**

>  **A/N:** Written for [](http://who-contest.livejournal.com/profile)[**who_contest**](http://who-contest.livejournal.com/) 's **Prompt:[A New Life](http://who-contest.livejournal.com/30071.html)**. Only mildly dark (*gasp!*) but more than a little thinky. Sorry about that - Eleventy does that to me (as you all well know). Tis in AHEAD of time, for once - though it is overly rambly. Eleven had to fight with my horrid cold to get this past me. I'm just crossing my fingers that it is coherent *grins* For all its faults, I hope you enjoy!  
>  **Disclaimer(s): _I do not own the scrumptious Doctor or his lovely companions. That honor goes to the BBC and (for now) the fantastic S. Moffat. The only thing that belongs to me is this fiction - and I am making no profit. Only playing about!_**


End file.
